


our revels now are ended

by luminoussbeings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, Graduation, M/M, because it’s in the future and this could be canon ok!!, high school level angst tho like premium teen angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminoussbeings/pseuds/luminoussbeings
Summary: It’s the last day of senior year at Midtown School of Science and Technology, but Peter’s still got some unfinished business.





	our revels now are ended

Peter answered on the first ring. “Hey—“

“Where the _fuck_ are you guys?” MJ’s voice slammed into his ear, her impatience nearly a tangible thing. “If you miss this, Parker, I swear to god—“

“No, no, we’ll be there!” Peter said, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder to free up his hands. “Ned and I just have to finish—“

“Whoa, Parker! Glad to hear you two are finally—“

“Fuck off. We have to finish _clearing out the labs,_ then we’ll be right up, okay?”

“Fine. Just don’t be late.”

“When am I ever? Don’t answer that,” he added, and hung up before MJ could go off. Sighing, he swept more junk into the maw of his backpack. They probably should’ve cleaned out their work stations _before_ the last day of school, but hey—procrastination had never failed him throughout high school; no reason it should now, at the very end.

“Let me guess,” said Ned, across the table. “MJ?”

“Yup.”

“Yelling at us for not being there yet?”

Peter nodded.

“Sexual joke about the two of us?”  
“Of course,” said Peter, and Ned groaned.

Peter couldn’t help trying to read into that. Was Ned annoyed with MJ’s constant ribbing, or the implication of anything between him and Peter? And why did Peter care?

He didn’t, he told himself, and pushed the thoughts away.

“So anyway,” Ned was saying, “my mom’s gonna freak when she sees the amount of stuff I’m bringing home.”

Truthfully, Peter couldn’t say he blamed her. Ned’s room was stuffed to the bursting with lego sets, computer monitors, deconstructed ham radios, and a million other things that Ned claimed he absolutely needed and Dr. Leeds claimed he didn’t. “Maybe you could recycle some of it?” Peter suggested tactfully, nodding at the device in Ned’s hand.

“Recycle _this_? Are you kidding?” Ned shook the little machine. When Peter didn’t react, his face fell. “You don’t remember, do you.”

“Uh—”

“Our first project together, back in freshman year?”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “You still have Mousey-Mouse?”

“Uh, yeah!” Ned placed it on the table and pressed a button. Two glowing eyes appeared as it powered up, humming a low whir as it wiggled across the desk into Peter’s waiting hands. He picked it up and drew it close to his face for inspection.

The little thing was only vaguely mouse shaped, and didn’t do much more than roll across flat surfaces, but he could still remember that first burst of joyful pride at their creation. It was the first time he’d felt comfortable at his new school, when he’d felt like more than the weird scrawny kid with the dead parents, when he’d felt like together, he and Ned could do anything. Build anything. Take on any problem.

He held Mousey-Mouse tight to his chest. When he looked up, Ned was watching him with an expression he couldn’t place. “I kept everything,” Ned said softly.

Peter swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. This moment seemed important, which sucked, because Peter had a history of screwing up important moments. “Uh—” he broke off as his phone buzzed. “Shit, it’s MJ. Ned, we gotta hurry—it’s already 2:40.”

Ned nodded, pulling out the drawer as far as it could go and shoveling the contents indiscriminately into his backpack. “Okay, ready.”

Peter followed suit, and Ned flicked off the lights. He pulled out his phone to text MJ and almost crashed into Ned, who was stopped in the doorway. “Dude, what’s the hold up?”

“It’s just,” Ned faltered. He gestured to the room, and Peter followed his gaze, taking in the sprawling workspaces, heaps of wiring and metal sheeting, and buckets full of welding equipment. The singe-mark on the wall from sophomore year that was totally his fault, even though he’s denied it ever since. The table that he and Ned had claimed freshman year and converted into a makeshift home away from home. “Four _years_ , man.”

“I know.”

Ned’s voice was thick. “It’s just...weird, y’know? Knowing this is the last time we’ll ever be in here.”

Peter knew. In fact, he’d been trying not to think about it for the entire past week. He forced on a cheery tone. “Hey, it’s okay. Just think how much bigger Columbia’s labs will be, huh?”

“Yeah, true. Oh! And did I tell you they even have 3-D printers right in the dorm?” Ned said, perking up.

“You’re shitting me!” Peter said, following Ned out the door as his friend launched into a description. He tried his best to pay attention, but every hallway they walked through became a minefield of memories, grabbing his attention with a dangerous urgency.

His sophomore year locker, the door still warped from when he’d forgot he had super-strength and slammed it too hard.

The bench he and Ned used to sit at during free period, until the time they both sat in gum and got made fun of by MJ for the rest of the month.

The water fountain he used to drink out of—okay, maybe that one wasn’t a heartfelt memory. But still, Peter couldn’t help romanticize the slightest details, taking them in one last time and trying to commit them to memory. He would never walk through these halls by Ned’s side ever again, and a part of him would always be in mourning.

At last, they reached the senior hallway, already crushed with students. He caught sight of MJ above Flash’s head and she pushed her way towards them.

“Took you guys long enough,” she grumbled, thrusting stacks of papers in their hands. “Here. I figured you’d forget to bring stuff, so have my old AP Gov notes.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep these?” Peter frowned, flipping through the pages of scrawled notes. “Aren’t you, like, literally majoring in Government or something?”

“Political Science and International Relations,” MJ corrected. “And nah. The textbook says racial profiling can be “useful” and that global warming helps save on heating costs, so I think I’m good.”

“Holy shit,” Ned said, just as the students began to chant.

MJ grabbed his arm. “It’s starting!”

_Ten...nine…_

Ned’s grin stretched from ear to ear. Even MJ had cast aside her customary smirk in favor of a real smile. Wondering what was wrong with him, Peter hoped no one would notice how his smile didn’t meet his eyes.

_Three...two...one!_

The bell rang for a final time, and the hallway erupted in screams. Scantrons and looseleaf tornadoed through the air. A beat late, Peter threw up MJ’s notes, but he’d forgotten to separate them, so they fell back to earth in a solid thunk.

He turned to look for MJ, but she was gone, sucked into the writhing mass of celebration. Sweat beaded on his brow. His head was beginning to spin under the noise, the humid press of so many bodies.

Cool fingers gripped his hand. Ned. He accepted them gratefully. “Come on,” Ned tugged him forward. “Let’s get out of here before I asphyxiate on all the Axe.”

“Good plan.” Peter followed until they made it through the front doors, stopping on the front steps to inhale big lungfuls of fresh, non-body sprayed air.

A few moments later, MJ joined them, cheeks flushed and hair askew. “I don’t know about you guys,” she said, throwing her arms around their shoulders, “but I do _not_ want to go home right now. Pizza?”

“You’re on,” said Ned.

“Hey, should we wait for Cindy?” Peter asked, and MJ became studiously interested in her nails as Ned grimaced. Peter looked between them. “What?” he demanded.

Ned shifted uncomfortably. “I sort of...broke up with Cindy.”

“Sort of? Or for real?”

“For real,” chimed in MJ, with a glare at Ned. “She spent all of art class dripping tears onto my watercolors, you know.”

“It’s not my fault!” Ned protested. “She’s going to CalTech! That’s like a bajillion miles away! What was I supposed to do?”

“Idk, Leeds, maybe _not_ ruin her last day of high school by dumping her in the first three minutes of of homeroom?”

“Okay, okay.” Peter held up his hands. “Pizza, remember? Let’s all calm down, try enjoying our last day of high school, alright?”

His friends grumbled their assent, and they set off, waving at teachers and classmates as they left campus. He tried to focus on their conversation, but all he could think was: Ned dumped Cindy. Ned dumped Cindy in _homeroom_ , and he didn’t say a word to Peter the whole day? What the fuck? He’d been worried college would make them grow apart, but now, as he watched the back of his friend’s head bobbing next to MJ’s, he wondered if they hadn’t already.

***  
When Peter got home, he was in a Mood.

“How was school?” Aunt May called from the couch. “Ooh, can I see your yearbook?”

“Maybe later,” Peter mumbled, and shut the door to his room. Footsteps padded up to his hallway, paused, then turned away, like she was weighing between going after him or giving him space. He sighed. He knew he wasn’t being fair to Aunt May, but he couldn’t help it.

He still didn’t get it. Pizza had been great; Ned and MJ had reconciled in time to share slices of Hawaiian, because they were both heathens who actually liked pineapple on pizza. They’d joked and laughed and screwed around like normal.

And he’d been happy.

Except—it _wasn’t_ like normal.

Because in two months, he wouldn’t be assigned a new locker or lunch period or homeroom teacher—instead, he’d pack his bags and move over 200 miles away. Away from Aunt May. Away from the city that’d raised him like a fifth parent. Away from—his heart constricted—Ned.

He pushed open the door. Aunt May had made a space for him on the couch, and he curled into it gratefully, letting her rub small circles on his back like she used to when he was a kid and bad dreams kept them both up late into the night. “What’s up, buddy?” she murmured.

Peter took a breath. “I don’t want to go to MIT.”

To his surprise, Aunt May didn’t react. She just kept rubbing his back, seemingly undisturbed by this huge, potentially life-altering bomb he’d just dropped. “Graduation blues, huh?”

“What?” Peter said, pushing out from under her arm. “No. That’s not what this is about, okay? I just don’t—”

“Don’t want to go to the best engineering program in the country?” May arched an eyebrow. “Don’t want to go to the school that gave you a full scholarship? ‘Cause believe me when I tell you, those don’t fall from trees.”

“Well—that’s not—you don’t underst—”

“Peter.” She leveled him with a look. “I get it, okay? Believe it or not, I went to high school, too, you know.” Heaving a sigh, she slung her arm back around his shoulders. “Yeah, it sucks right now. And everyone gets scared before big changes, even—no, _especially_ teenage superheroes.” She elbowed him in the side. “But everything has a time and a place, and Midtown is over for you guys. _Everyone’s_ moving on.” She counted off on her fingers. “Cindy’s at Caltech and MJ’s at Harvard and Shuri finally accepted that visiting professor position at MIT, right? So she’ll be there too, and—”

“Ned will still be here,” Peter said, voice small.

Aunt May stilled. “Ah,” she said finally, her tone infuriatingly knowing.

“What?” Peter demanded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” May said, pushing him up off the couch, “that I’m not the one you need to talk to right now.”

***

With one hand, Peter drummed his fingers on the counter. The other was shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, tapping an equally relentless beat on the back of his phone. Maybe he should pull it out and check it one more time—No. Ned would be here soon.

When Peter had texted and asked Ned to meet him that night at their favorite diner, he’d responded immediately, without any of his usual flippancy. He hadn’t even asked why Peter hadn’t invited MJ. Like he knew this talk would be different.

Peter tried not to let that throw his stomach into any more knots than it already was.

“Hey,” Ned said, sliding into the booth. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Peter said, then hated himself for sounding so weirdly formal. This wasn’t a job interview, it was _Ned_ , for Christ’s sake. His best and most trusted friend for four freaking years. Peter had shared everything with him, every little dumb thought or brilliant idea that had ever crossed his mind, except—well—

Except what he was about to share now.

“I have something to tell you,” Peter said, just as Ned said “Big news.” After an awkward moment of _you go_ and _no, after you,_ and _really I insist,_ Peter was chosen to go first.

“Um,” he began, eloquently. His eyes darted around the diner, bouncing off the vinyl seats and tracking the movement of the waitresses as they refilled coffee. Finally, he forced himself to look at the boy sitting across from him.

Ned’s hair was ruffled, his warm eyes staring at him expectantly as he waited for Peter to speak. _No time like the present,_ Peter thought, and barreled ahead before he could lose his nerve.

“Ned, I...you’re my best friend, and I love you, bro. I hope you know that.”

Ned’s face crinkled. “Aw, dude. ‘Course I know that. And ditto, for real, man.”

Peter nodded. Took a breath. “Right. But here’s the thing. I also... _like_ you.” He sneaked a glance at Ned, whose face hadn’t changed. Fearing he hadn’t been clear enough, he clarified, “Like, I _like you_ like you. Like more-than-friends like you. I kinda just realized it, but I couldn’t stand going off to college not having said anything, and I know this couldn’t have come at a worse time, and you literally just said you didn’t want to do long distance and _God_ , where am I even going thinking you’d even feel the same way and that I didn’t just irreversibly fuck up our friendship and—“

“Two strawberry creams?” Peter nearly jumped as the waitress placed their milkshakes in front of them. Grateful for the distraction, he slurped down half of it before looking up again.

“Ned,” he pleaded when his friend was still silent. “I’m sorry. I’ll take it back, pretend this never happened, if you want me to. Just...say something.”

Ned didn’t say something.

Carefully, he pushed aside his milkshake. Raised himself slightly from the booth. And just as Peter was bracing himself for Ned to walk out on him, he leaned forward and kissed him.

For a shocked moment, Peter did nothing. Then his dumbass brain finally sorted through his mental flurry of _HOLY FUCK, NED JUST KISSED ME,_ and came up with the appropriate response: kissing him back.

It was awkward and clumsy and sweet. It tasted like strawberry ice cream, whipped cream, and home. It felt like the storms in his head had finally quieted, even just a little.

It felt damn good.

They broke apart. Peter fell back in his seat, gasping.

“My big news was that I got the Lego Millenium Falcon as a grad gift,” Ned said, sipping on his milkshake. “I like your news a lot better.”

“Wow,” Peter said, grinning stupidly. “Um. This. Yeah. This is happening, then?”

“This is happening,” Ned confirmed. 

“But what about the distance?”

“Dude, it’s three hours, and you’re a freaking Avenger. Don’t tell me Stark hasn’t given you some fancy flying suit or something.”

“And you’re sure you want this? I didn’t mean to put you on the spot or pressure you or anything—”

“Peter,” Ned closed his eyes, “I love you man, but you need to stop talking and start kissing.”

“Right.” Just as he was leaning forward again, Peter’s phone lit up. He peered over at it. “Shit. It’s MJ, and she wants to know why she saw us on Snapchat maps at the diner without her.” He raised an eyebrow at Ned. “Care to take this one?”

Ned leaned back, grinning wickedly. “No, no. By all means, go ahead.”

Already dialing MJ, Peter flipped him off, but he couldn’t shake the smile overtaking his face. Sitting across the table from one best friend, his other best friend voice’s slamming familiarly into his ear once more, he settled back against the cracked vinyl and realized, finally, that he was exactly where he was meant to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> I graduated high school almost 2 weeks ago, and since then I’ve gone thru the five stages of grief forwards and backwards like 20 times lmaoo. High school sucks for everyone, but I’ve been lucky enough to have been surrounded by so many amazing people and teachers that I will miss dearly next year.  
> The title is from The Tempest, and it’s also what my Shakespeare teacher said to us on the last day of school and it made me cry a lil bit ngl.  
> Anyway! I love my spiderkids :’) and I would love to hear from you if you ever had time to comment!


End file.
